


TRICK OR TREAT IN EREBOR

by d62_r54



Category: Set in Middle Earth. My first short story
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 16:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12561408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d62_r54/pseuds/d62_r54
Summary: Jenilee, as woman from Earth, finds herself in Middle Earth, living in Erebor.





	TRICK OR TREAT IN EREBOR

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Adele Watson](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Adele+Watson).



> Thanks to Adele Watson for allowing me to use her original idea. This is my first short. Enjoy!

TRICK OR TREAT IN EREBOR

 

Just having left Erebor’s vast library, Jenilee smiled fondly. She could hear the children squealing and laughing in excited delight as Balin helped them make their candy bags, and practice their “Trick or Treats”.

Stopping at the balcony in the hall and stepping out into the warm sunshine, Jenilee mused in astonished wonder at the events that had led her from her world of Earth to Middle Earth.

She had always been an avid Tolkien reader. His works, which were set in Middle earth, took her away from the world in which she lived. It was becoming a place full of even more terror and violence than before. More than once she had wished she could go to Middle Earth.

One day, Jenilee had been passing a pawn shop. A pendant in the window had caught her eye. A simple gold necklace which appeared to have writing on it. She’d giggled in delight, for she could have sworn it had Elvish writings on it that looked so much like the ones in the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien that she went right in and bought it. When she got home, she eagerly pulled it out of the bag and put it around her neck. That evening in her bed, she could not sleep. Absently holding the new jewelry, she murmured “I wish I could live in Middle Earth. In Erebor with King Thorin and the Dwarves.” Suddenly the symbols had begun to glow. The next thing she knew, Jenilee found herself at the edge of a dense forest. She had gasped in astonishment. Before her was the Lonely Mountain.

That had been almost six months ago. King Thorin had opened his home to her, asking her to spend time with him so that he could learn more about her and her world. And so, it had begun. Jenilee found that, while Thorin was gruff and hard headed on the outside, he was intelligent and insightful. More and more he sought her out, and Jenilee considered him her best friend. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she made haste to the king’s office. A messenger had come to her, requesting that she go to the King as soon as possible. Mindful that although they had become close, he was still the ruler of his people and needed to be afforded the respect of this important station, she made haste to follow his request.

Thorin drummed his fingers on the desk in growing impatience. He was not in the best of moods. It was after Durin’s Day when he had asked Jenilee about celebrations in her world. He’d realized that his people, the children especially, had no more celebrations to break the monotony until mid-Spring. When her green eyes sparkled as she snapped her fingers, tossing her long brown hair behind her in a gesture that he found endearing, he’d lost his train of thought for a moment. He knew he had strong feelings for her, and that he wanted to make love to her very badly. But those things could wait. He had this current dilemma on his hands and only two days in which to resolve it.

Finally, there was a knock on the door. “Enter” he rumbled. Jenilee came into the room. He stared at her for a moment, his foul mood forgotten. She was wearing a simple dress of light blue today. It was her usual custom to wear trousers and a shirt. She’d explained that in her world, women did it all of the time, and she felt very comfortable in them. He smiled. She said softly as she walked across the chamber, “Milord how can I be of service today?” Thorin stood, and pulled out a chair for her. As she sat, he murmured quietly, “You look lovely today.” Going back around the desk he sat, and a thunderous scowl returned to his handsome features. Jenilee remained silent, pouring coffee for herself and the King. Finally, Thorin swore in Dwarvish, and exclaimed, “I’m beginning to wish I had not decided to have this trick or treat celebration!” His voice was more than a bit surly. Jenilee frowned, and asked calmly, “Why milord? What troubles you about it?” 

Thorin grimaced at his tone, and took a sip of coffee before replying. He roared in fury and spit the brew out. “I’m going to thrash those nephews of mine! This is salt, not sugar!” Jenilee giggled, and said reasonably as she produced a pouch of sugar and made him another cup, “That’s part of Halloween Thorin! To do tricks. Why don’t you pull a few on them instead of getting mad?” One raven brow arched, and he murmured thoughtfully, “I can do that. It matters not that I am King. This is after all, a special occasion.” He glanced at her. Finally, Jenilee asked him, “Thorin, what has you so angry?”

He sighed, and told her, “It’s two days until the celebration. I have invited that Elf” he said this as if the name were poison, “as well as Bard of Dale. But all of the good costumes are gone,” he finished with a grumble. He looked at her. Smiling, she replied with a sparkle in her eyes, “Milord, you are missing the point! You can dress up as anyone in Middle Earth!” His blue eyes suddenly became thoughtful. “Anyone at all?” he queried. Jenilee nodded. She saw a mischievous gleam in his eyes, and smothered a giggle, wondering what he was up to. They talked for a bit, then she left him in much better spirits than he had been in before.

Two days later, Jenilee was getting on her costume for the party. She was trying to hurry, for after their conversation, Thorin had been so utterly close mouthed about his choice of a costume, that she was frankly dying of curiosity. She smiled as she recalled how he’d gotten even with his nephews. When they had settled into their beds to sleep that night, their yelling could be heard all over the castle. She’d poked her head out in time to see both men scratching like crazy. It seemed that their uncle had put itching powder all over their sheets. When they threw open their doors to come into the hall, great buckets of ice cold water dumped all over them. Their pranks on their uncle stopped after that.

Jenilee left her room, heading for the great hall. She was going as a black cat. In her world, she would have worn black stockings and form fitting black shorts and top. But rules concerning women and their protection were strict here in Erebor. She rather thought that Thorin wouldn’t appreciate her showing that much leg, so she’d opted for a form fitting black dress, with a long black tail sewn on the back. She’d used some of Lady Dis’ makeup to do her face.

As she entered the great hall, King Thranduil of Mirkwood and King Bard of Dale had just entered. She saw that Bard was dressed as Gandalf the Gray. As she crossed the room, her mouth dropped open in shock. Thorin and Thranduil both were standing facing each other, twin expressions of surprise upon their faces. She hurried over to Thorin’s side, ready to smooth things over. Just as she got there, Thorin nodded to Bard, then turned to the Elf King and said in as even a tone as anyone had heard him use on Thranduil, “I chose the most hideous costume I could think of. “He was dressed as the Elf King. He added, “How you can wear a dress and be comfortable in it is beyond me.”

The entire hall was deathly quiet. Staring eye to eye, the Elf King was silent for a few seconds. He was dressed as King Thorin. Finally, he spoke with a nod of his head. “And I too wore the most disgusting costume I could arrange. It seems as though we are of one mind. And I also wonder how you can wear all these furs! They itch!” They gazed at each other for long minutes. Then at the same time, both monarchs broke into huge grins. Thorin held out his hand, laughing and exclaimed, “We are well met then! Come! Join our celebration!” Thranduil smiled as well, clasping Thorin’s shoulder. He and Bard began to pass out goodies to all of the Dwarven children who gathered about them, shouting “Trick or treat!”

Jenilee let out the breath she’s been holding. “Well” she murmured for the King’s ears alone “That went rather well, once the pair of you ceased posing at each other.” 

Thorin turned his bluest eyes to her. She saw them widen slightly as he looked her up and down, from her hair to her toes, missing nothing. Those orbs were lit with a desire that matched her own as he whispered to her, “Aye. And that dress of yours has thoughts going through my mind of a special celebration, just the two of us, after the party. What say you, sweetling? Does that meet with your approval?” He kissed her ear, sending shivers of delight down her body that he did not miss. Jenilee looked up at him, and smiled wickedly. She pulled his face down to her, and replied softly in his ear, “I was beginning to wonder if you felt nothing for me but friendship. Yes milord. I believe a celebration of our own is long overdue.” 

Thorin smile and produced some beads from his pocket. Jenilee gasped, for she knew what the beads meant. She stammered “Thorin?” he heard the question in her voice. As he braided the beads into her hair, he gazed at her and replied, “I love you my very own. If you do not feel the same, tell me now. Otherwise I’m staking my claim on you before I have to kill any man who has the same ideas as me going through their minds. “She smiled and told him with happiness shining in her green eyes, “I accept with happiness Thorin, for I love you as well. With all of my heart.” His beadwork was done. It was now official that she was his intended, his future Queen. Right there, uncaring who saw them, Thorin pulled her into his arms, and kissed her long and lingeringly. The cheers were deafening across the hall. Even Bard and Thranduil smiled, joining in the cheers.

Throwing one mighty arms around her waist, Thorin proudly escorted to the banquet table. After seating her, He hefted his glass of Elven wine and boomed out, the joy in his deep voice obvious, “A toast! To our future Queen!” Cheers went up again. Bard and The Elf king sat closest to them. After drinking the toast, Thranduil said to Thorin, “Congratulations Thorin and Jenilee! But I wonder, do Bard and I get to kiss the future bride?” Thorin laughed, but there was a warning beneath his words as he replied, pulling his future Queen into his lap, “Don’t make me regret accepting a truce between us! No man’ lips will touch hers but mine!” Nodding, the elf king nodded and said “Indeed Thorin, I see your point! Were she mine, I would feel the same.” And so, the party went on, and it was one that went down as an epic event. Not only did Thorin and Thranduil make peace, but there would soon be another party, the likes of which Erebor had not seen in many years. The joining of their king with the woman he loved. And so, the celebration went on long into the night.


End file.
